


I'm Not Much of a Snacker

by ReinaZanahoria



Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Consensual Blood Drinking, Cuddling, Guillermo and Nandor share a bed and it's not even a room with just one bed, Guillermo/Nandor more implied than acted upon, I wrote most of this high, M/M, Road Trip, There's blood but no violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:34:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaZanahoria/pseuds/ReinaZanahoria
Summary: “Just enough to keep you together until morning,” offered Guillermo. Nandor could swear he saw the blood beating in his wrist. He peeled the band aid off his hand. Nandor’s eyes fluttered with a mixture of hunger and arousal as he smelled the coppery scent from Guillermo’s hand. His eyes darted from the band aid to the cut.Guillermo inched closer. “I don’t mind.”The gang are on a roadtrip but Nandor forgot to eat for two days! Good thing he lives with the one true snack. Guillermo. Guillermo is the little warm bloodbag. Then they cuddle.
Relationships: Guillermo & Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV), Guillermo/Nandor the Relentless (What We Do in the Shadows TV)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 199





	I'm Not Much of a Snacker

Guillermo usually loved driving at night. The night air was thick and warm, the sky was uncovered, and the arc of the Milky Way shimmered across the expanse. The tarmac road drew a thin line to the horizon as it reflected the faint blue light from the stars and the waxing moon. A traveller, standing outside in the South Carolina plains, would have felt at peace listening to the slow rustle of the trees and early morning birdsong, and if they had been about a mile away, they might have heard the faint sound of Nadja wailing the lyrics to  _ The Girl In The Village With the Very Small Foot. _

Had they been any closer than a mile,  _ faint _ would not be the right word.

“It’s my turn to choose the music!” shouted a 757-year-old vampire with the tone of a spoiled eight-year-old.

“It’s still my turn,” retorted Laszlo, “My good lady wife hasn’t even reached the verse about the fish.”

Nadja continued wailing.

Guillermo glanced to his right, where Colin was sat with a large map unfolded onto his lap. He could see his eyes glowing blue.

“How far are we from the hotel?” asked Guillermo, raising his voice to drown out Nadja’s.

“It’s at the next right,” said Colin, “In about five minutes. Hey, did you know that this state has a river called Broad River and a river called Little River? Can you believe it?” His practiced tone made the fact uniquely boring. “It’s like they can’t even decide on the size of their bodies of water. And Little River is a tributary of Broad River, ha. I guess the apple can fall far from the tree.”

“Not now, Colin,” said Guillermo through gritted teeth, “Please. I don’t want to miss the turning, it’s almost sunrise.”

“Ah! Almost at the Devil’s Crossroads, are we?” said Laszlo from the back.

“Almost!” said Guillermo.

Laszlo puffed out his chest. “I’m going to be a world renowned ukulele player when this is over.”

“The easiest instrument,” muttered Guillermo.

“What was that?” asked Laszlo.

“Nothing! This two-day road trip is completely worth it,” replied Guillermo, switching his turn signal on for no one as the hotel approached.

“ _ Did she lose her foot to a fish? _ ” sang Nadja. “ _ No one knows, no one knows _ .”

“Ok, the song’s over!” said Nandor, “I can pick the next one. Guillermo!”

Guillermo slowed the car down as they entered the hotel parking lot. “But, Master, we’ve arrived.”

“Then turn the car around! I want to choose a song.”

“It’s almost sunup, Master.”

Nandor grimaced. “Fine, we can stop here, but you’re getting a demerit point for this.”

“For not controlling the sun, Master?”

“And you’ll get another one for getting sassy with me,” said Nandor, stern.

Guillermo checked them into the hotel. The place hurt to look at, from the peeling plasticky paint on the walls to the flickering fluorescent lights. The receptionist could have been anywhere between fourteen and twenty-five, but was unambiguously unhappy to be awake at five am. Guillermo could be nothing but apologetic as Nandor grumbled under his breath about picking the song.

The receptionist handed over the keys to their rooms, and Guillermo thanked God that Nadja and Laszlo had lost the coin flip and had to share their room with Colin.

The others left, and Guillermo followed Nandor with all their luggage in his arms.

Their two bed room smelled musty; the décor looked unchanged from the nineties, the carpet had a tasteless blue pattern and the desk’s fake wood colour was chipped off at the corners. The beds looked comfortable and clean, until one sat on them and realised just how thin the mattresses were.

Nandor watched from the doorway as Guillermo unpacked the toothbrushes and his pyjamas from their bag. “Make sure the curtains are shut properly!” he commanded, “I’m going to get someone to eat, I’m starving.”

Guillermo shuffled over to the small window and went to pull the outdated, musty curtains closed. He glanced downwards, over at the parking lot. A police car was pulling in. He pulled the curtains shut.

“Um, Master, who are you going to eat?”

The vampire shrugged. “Someone from one of the other rooms? Does it matter?”

Guillermo nodded, “Yeah, uh, there’s police outside.”

Nandor quickly checked the window. “How long until sunrise, Guillermo?”

The familiar checked his watch; it was nearing 6am. He looked anxious. “About fifteen minutes, Master.”

Nandor’s shoulders fell. “I’m going to go talk to the policeman. Maybe they are going soon?” He left the room before Guillermo could reply.

Guillermo made himself busy, though there wasn’t much to do. He fluffed up the pillows, hung up Nandor’s outfit for the next day and went to brush his teeth,

He heard the door to the room creak open. “Guillermo?” called Nandor. Guillermo made a muffled noise through his toothbrush.

“The police are here all day,” whined Nandor, “I do not think I will eat until this evening.”

Guillermo spat into the sink, wiped his face and peeked around the door. “Are you going to be okay, Master?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be fine,” said Nandor, dismissively waving his hand. Guillermo noticed he was carrying a bag.

“What’s that?”

Nandor lit up. “It’s the ice-chip snack Guillermo! There’s a machine that makes it for free. I thought you deserved a little treat, for driving us down here for two days.”

Ice from a free ice machine. Nandor was ever the philanthropist.

“Wow, thank you, Master,” said Guillermo through a strained smile, “How… kind.” He pulled out a plastic travel bowl from the bag at his feet and made a show of pouring the ice chips into it.

He turned the TV on and perched on the edge of the bed, placing the ice bowl on the side as he got to finally relax. Nandor lay down next to him.

“Why are you on my bed, Master?”

“There’s a better view of the TV.”

“Oh, okay,” said Guillermo, quickly. He leaned back and popped an ice chip into his mouth. The crunch was satisfying, and the cold was rather pleasant in the heat of the morning. The colour of the room began to warm as the sun rose outside, but Guillermo knew they were safe as the curtains were tightly drawn.

Nandor shifted on the bed, adjusting the collar on his cloak. His hunger was making it difficult to focus on the television. All he could think about was how delectable each human on the screen would be. He shuffled his body slightly, trying to figure out if he was more comfortable on his elbows or his chest.

“Are you okay, Master?” asked Guillermo, eyebrows raised.

“I’m fine. Do not worry about me, Guillermo.” Nandor glanced sideways to the bowl of ice chips. “How is your snack?”

Guillermo popped another ice chip into his mouth. He felt slow, the exhaustion from five hours of driving was getting to him. “Mm? Oh, good, thank you, Master.”

Nandor eyed the bowl. He wondered if ice was close enough to food to make a vampire throw up. He assumed it was, since it made such a great snack for Guillermo, but it seemed to mostly be water. He knew it wouldn’t satisfy the gnawing hunger, but it would certainly be something to sink his fangs into.

“Can I try one of these… ice chips?” asked Nandor.

“You won’t be sick?”

“I don’t know… Probably not,” said Nandor. He didn’t need permission anyway, his hand dipped into the bowl to place a fresh ice cube on his tongue. He felt the slight cool of the ice cube, though as he was chilled as a corpse, the ice was still colder than him. Then he tried to roll the ice in his mouth, but to his slow horror, the ice would not budge from his tongue. “It’th thtuck!” He stuck his tongue out and shook Guillermo.

“What- how did that happen, Master?” asked Guillermo, dumbfounded.

Nandor shook his head, unaware of the physics of conductivity, such as the fact that ice needs to be warm to melt.

Guillermo was slightly better versed. “Let me try and remove it, Master,” he said, “Maybe my hands can warm it up.” He pulled Nandor up so that they were sitting face to face and put his fingers around the ice cube.

Nandor glanced down at Guillermo’s wrist. He could hear the beating pulse inside it. He could feel himself drooling slightly, and hopped Guillermo wouldn’t notice. He could taste Guillermo’s skin and felt the dry fingers on his tongue. He tried to will his tongue to stay perfectly still for Guillermo, but the discomfort was too much.

“Is something bothering you, Master?” asked Guillermo, focused on warming up the ice cube. His fingers were getting cold. He considered switching to his other hand, but he felt close to finished.

Nandor didn’t know how to reply. He couldn’t speak without biting into Guillermo’s hand. He was uncomfortable and hungry, but it was not like skipping two days of meals wasn’t something he’d done before. He didn’t want Guillermo to worry, so he shook his head no. This was not his cleverest move.

His fang scratched Guillermo’s hand, and Guillermo pulled back, pulling away what was left of the melting ice cube. The familiar winced and inspected the damage; a small trickle of blood was forming on the back of his hand.

“Oops,” said Nandor. He was frozen in place, not unlike the ice cube had been a minute ago. He could smell the sweet, coppery scent of blood emanating from Guillermo’s hand. He could hear the thudding of his familiar’s heart, the churning of the blood through his body. His eyes fixated on the trickles running down Guillermo’s arm and he licked his lips absentmindedly.

Guillermo grabbed a few paper towels from the bathroom to mop up the damage and cover it with a bandaid before clocking Nandor’s stare. “Master, when did you last eat?”

“Mm? No, Guillermo, I’m fine. I’m just peckish!”

“When did you last eat?”

Nandor looked down and pulled a face. “Two days ago. In Staten Island. But it’s not usually that bad.”

“Yeah, but it’s two days with Colin Robinson.” They exchanged knowing glances. “Master, are you going to be okay tonight?”

“I’ll be fine, let’s just go to bed,” said Nandor, immediately lying rigid on his own bed. Guillermo turned the television off and lay down himself, feeling anxious for his master.

Nandor tried to drift off, but it was tough. The room was much brighter than his coffin at home and the smells were different. Most distractingly, he was starving, and the smell of virgin blood was sneaking into his nostrils. He tried to place a pillow on his head to counter both the light and the smell, but it was ineffective. His instincts urged him awake, his stomach grumbling. His mind replayed the cut, the dabbing of the blood on the tissue paper. A lightbulb went off.

He slowly got out of bed, eyeing the trash can with the bloody tissues. He crouched down, quiet as he could and cautious not to rustle the paper. Then he placed the tissues into his mouth.

The taste was sweet, delicate, virginal; even half an hour old it was delicious. Nandor sucked until there was no taste left and felt a pang of regret. It was delicious, but now his appetite had been awakened.

Guillermo stirred. “Master?” he mumbled. He rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Why is-“ He paused, watching Nandor’s crouched figure glowing from the filtered curtain light, cheeks stuffed like a hamster’s. “Are you really that hungry?”

Nandor spat into his hands and threw the wet wad of tissue paper back into the bin. “I’m fine.”

Sighing, Guillermo left his bed to sit by Nandor. “I’m not so sure.”

He hesitated for a moment, then unbuttoned the sleeve on his pyjama top and raised his wrist. “I’m here,” he ventured. His stomach tightened; in his ten years as a familiar he hadn’t known Nandor to show much restraint with his victims. Yet he trusted him, and a part of him was selfishly curious to know what it would be like to watch Nandor at his most monstrous, desperately devouring him.

Nandor could hear his familiar’s heartbeat accelerating. It sounded like fear, yet Guillermo’s face betrayed a much different emotion. “I don’t know, Guillermo…” His mouth salivated in protest.

“Just enough to keep you together until morning,” offered Guillermo. Nandor could swear he saw the blood beating in his wrist. He peeled the band aid off his hand. Nandor’s eyes fluttered with a mixture of hunger and arousal as he smelled the coppery scent from Guillermo’s hand. His eyes darted from the band aid to the cut.

Guillermo inched closer. “I don’t mind.”

The smell was nauseatingly sweet and bold and tempting. Nandor swallowed. His mouth was strangely full of saliva.

“I can manage until morning,” he said, trying to believe it. It was probably true, though he wouldn’t be able to sleep.

“I don’t believe you,” said Guillermo, “Your face is doing a thing.”

“What thing? My face does not do a thing!” protested Nandor, his face clearly doing a thing.

“Your eyes are twitching!” exclaimed Guillermo, waving his distracting wrist about, “You’re hungry! Stop staring at me like a plate of bacon and admit it!”

“Fine! I’m very hungry and you –“ Nandor jabbed an accusing finger at Guillermo’s chest, “are being very naughty and tempting.”

Guillermo crossed his arms indignantly. “Then drink from me.”

Nandor stood up and sat back down on his own bed. He tried to still his face, but the smell still clung to his nostrils. “I will do no such thing.”

Guillermo uncrossed his arms and extended both. “Drink from me.”

“I don’t want to.” He did. His eyes fixed on Guillermo’s injured hand.

Emboldened, Guillermo leaned in and stuck the hand just a few inches from Nandor’s nose. “Let me help.”

“You’re making this very difficult,” said Nandor, in a tone that tried to be scolding but came out pleading.

“I’m trying to,” said Guillermo. He returned Nandor’s gaze.

The vampire’s eyes darkened. His lips trembled for a second before he grabbed Guillermo’s hand and pulled it to them, sinking his teeth into Guillermo’s wrist. The warm, sweet, metallic taste filled his mouth and dripped down the corners of his lips.

Guillermo squeezed his eyes shut until the pain dulled to a steady beat. He looked down at the mess of dark hair over his arm. Nandor did not even appear able to look up. His hands gripped Guillermo’s forearm tightly, and the familiar clenched his teeth, holding on to his bed sheets with his free hand.

Nandor fed first in frenzied gulps, his body warming as it took in the thick blood. It was deliciously hot on his tongue, heavy in his stomach, and the sweetest meal he’d had in a while. Then he slowed, lapping at the blood as it poured. His mind was a fog of hunger and bliss. For a few seconds he forgot that he was supposed to let go. His instincts were to clamp on until the pulse slowed, but as the more extreme hunger subsided, Nandor looked up to his paling familiar, scrunching his eyes through the pain and struggling to hold himself up. Nandor pulled away, using part of a towel on the end of the bed to put pressure on the cut.

“Better now?” asked Guillermo, woozily taking and holding the towel down.

Nandor licked his lips. “I would’ve been okay without you, but, thank you.”

“Sure.” Guillermo sounded faint. He tried to stand but fell back down. “’m tired,” he muttered.

Nandor stared awkwardly, in the way only he could. “Are you okay, Guillermo? Do you need help getting under the covers?”

“’ma be okay,” muttered Guillermo.

Nandor waited for Guillermo to pull the covers over himself, but he made no move to do any such thing.

“Okay…” He realised Guillermo was going to spend the night cold and uncovered if he did not act fast. “Guillermo, cover yourself, this is an order.”

“Mmkay, Master,” muttered Guillermo, not moving an inch.

Nandor sighed.  _ Fucking guy _ . He glanced down at the familiar, lying sideways on a scratchy hotel bed, legs draped over the edge, arm bloodied, falling asleep with a subtle smile on his face. He then glanced back at his own scratchy hotel bed. With a yawn, he quietly stood up and tiptoed as well as a trained warrior could to the other side of Guillermo’s bed.

He lifted Guillermo easily, using his elbow to move the sheets aside before placing the man back down. Then, with another parting glance at his own bed, Nandor lay down beside him. He tucked the sheets well over Guillermo’s body and entirely over his own face. Warm and full, his stomach was grateful for his selfless familiar, though he wondered why Guillermo had been so eager to help. His tired eyes flicked downwards to Guillermo. Looking down his body he saw a small bulge, as Guillermo sleep-whistled away. _ Ah _ , though Nandor, immediately trying for Guillermo’s sake to forget what he saw,  _ maybe not so selfless after all. _

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first one shot I've ever written and I'm so proud! 99% of what I write is just first chapters to chaptered fics I will never finish. Anyways I'm totally open to any criticism good or bad in the comments <3 I love this fandom.


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